


Prompt - You've fucked up for the last time!

by RiddleRedCoats



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lil bit of pureblood politics, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Tumblr - Sentence Prompt, ask
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 09:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20691050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiddleRedCoats/pseuds/RiddleRedCoats
Summary: Prompt of the Sentence Meme; "You fucked up for the last time!” asked by anon~After a date, Tom brings home Bellatrix and surprising news are shared.





	Prompt - You've fucked up for the last time!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for asking, I hope you like it (whoever you are!)
> 
> Rated: T bordering on M, for a little foreplay. I need fluff after that last one I did. (She said like an idiot but still found herself crying at the middle of it)
> 
> Sorry, this was so late, XD. Starting a new school year put a damper on things. This was actually ready a couple days ago but needed serious editing.

The cool night air of an otherwise hot summer day was like a balm on Bellatrix feverish skin. She bit her blood-red-painted lips to keep an uncharacteristic girly giggle contained deep in her chest and tilted her long neck to give better access to the man’s lips on her pulse. She moaned when his tongue swiped against her skin and his mouth climbed to nibble her ear, his hands, however, descended from her waist to sneak up her legs beneath the knee-length black skirt.

The cold skin of his palms rubbed against her burning hot tights, “Oh,” She whimpered loudly, grey eyes closed tightly, unaccustomed with the carnal desire that was warming her veins starting and spreading to wherever he touched her, “Oh, Tom.” 

He smirked into her neck, although it didn’t last long as she instinctively bucked against him. He groaned from deep within his chest and moved his mouth from her neck to her lips, giving her feverish hot kisses, deep and hard and all-consuming, leaving her dizzy and high and wanting oh, so much more. He pushed her further against the outside wall of her parents’ Manor set against the path that gave way to her mother’s Greek-inspired garden, the wall that stood right beneath her bedroom’s balcony. If he wanted, and oh how she hoped he wanted, they could easily sneak up her bedroom and finally, finally, **_finally_**…

Abruptly, he pulled himself away from her, leaving her cold against the summer breeze. Bellatrix could feel a pout starting to form on her kiss-swollen-lips as she knew the routine by now. They’d been…- well, she hesitated to say dating, but really there wasn’t any other word for it – dinners at fancy restaurants, private lunches during his lunch break, nights at some library or another, political rallies for his movement hosted by friends and acquaintances - … So, yes, they’d been dating and sharing fantastic – mind-blowing, breath-taking, unbelievably scorching – kisses for a couple of months now and every night he brought her home they ended up like this; endlessly kissing while he teased and groped and seemed to lose himself a little more each time. But he always, always, always – frustrating, how consistent he was – stopped before he fully took her. 

She sighed, despairing and needy, oh, so needy. She felt him chuckle against her mouth, this infuriating man who held so much power in his hands that it made her literally tremble with unrestrained desire. She gasped, half-panting, half-mad at the vibrations his laugh caused to ripple through her.

“Please.” Oh, he’d be so smug that she’d begged, but she couldn’t help herself. Her desire to have him had only climbed higher and higher in these last months. She ready. Oh, she was so ready.

Unfortunately, he seemed to disagree.

He put some distance between them and exhaled painfully, as if it tortured him to do so, “We can’t.”

Bellatrix groaned at the predictable answer but instead of being difficult and trying to press against him, Bellatrix decided instead to take him in. He was older than her, certainly, clear by the scarce lines in his face and the greying black hair, but he was so handsome, still. Dark eyes staring deep into her grey, sharp lines across his jaw stained by her lipstick, perfect lips swollen from their kisses, hair left in disarray by her frenzied hands. She took a step back and simply admired his good looks, as she often did much to his amusement and unbearable ego.

She’d never forget the first time she saw his face proper; intelligent eyes and power flowing all around his delicate features and when he ‘d first spoke to her she’d forgotten her damn name, he had then kissed her hand, setting every part of her aflame. They’d started a conversation and for the first time in her life, it was Bellatrix who struggled to keep up, no one had ever matched wits with her the way he did. 

He was near penniless, obviously, she had gathered that much from the conversation, but she continued talking to him, accepting even a dinner invitation that had doubled as their first date. She had left the restaurant even more enthralled by him. She had quickly summarized their chances in her head after the first date: One; She was a girl in a world in which her only job was to secure a good, profitable match, her father had no sons, so it fell to her to find an advantageous match and Tom was penniless and a half-blood, but that didn’t make her want him any less. Two; She had a match already, technically, and although Rodolphus fell below her family’s standards he was a good match. Three; She was a Black and that would elevate his status, she’d have to be naïve to set that aside, but if she gave him legitimacy, he gave her freedom.

In the end, she had decided he was worth the trouble. Not enough to elope, certainly, since it would ruin both their plans, but enough to **_try_**.

“You know,” Bellatrix smirked up at him, coyly, “My bedroom is right upstairs.”

He groaned, “You’re young, still.” He rumbled against her, despondent. And as lustful as her.

“Not **_that_** young.” She replied with a wicked look in her eyes, and moved her legs against his, feeling his attraction to her as strong as hers if the hardness against her stomach was any indication. He groaned again and bent his head to crash their lips together in a lust-filled kiss. She whimpered and near downright mewled against his heavy, demanding mouth and felt him close to giving in, for he was moving against her with a fervour that betrayed his intentions perfectly. Her hands instinctively rose to fiddle with his tie, but he seemed to regain his senses. 

He grabbed her hands tightly, “Wicked little thing.” He whispered, his lips brushing against hers with every syllable he uttered. Bellatrix leaned up trying to steal another kiss, but he pulled away from her at the last millisecond, so close that she felt a whisper of his lips on hers, and she sighed when he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed away a little. Tom took a deep breath, to steady himself most likely, before speaking, “We have to stop.” It was clear how it pained him to say so. “Until Rodolphus’ contract passes to your sister, we can’t… I-It’s too much…” He uncharacteristically stumbled through words, his desire truly making itself known, he took another deep breath, he took a mech of her hair and stroked it, “We need to **_restrain _**ourselves. You can’t break your marriage contract, your father-…”

Bellatrix smiled brightly up at him. That was her big surprise for the night; she had no marriage contract to break, because finally after two months of trying and trying, she had managed to direct Rodolphus’ contract to her sister, Andromeda, who had always gotten along swimmingly with Rodolphus. Her daddy had been fondly exasperated by her scheming and her reluctance to get a fiancé, but when she said she had someone in view, he had relaxed and sent her on her own merry way with the promise to remain **_pure _**until her engagement, at least. Which now really was, thankfully, only a few days away.

At her smile, he’d paused. He’d guessed then, of course. His intelligence was as attractive as his body and his power. 

“Did you-…?” He didn’t finish the sentence, there was no need to, her smiling eyes and bitten lower lip twisted up in a smirk were enough of an answer for him. He picked her up again, and then ravenously crashed their lips again. As his tongue pressed voraciously against her lips, Bellatrix realized with a needy moan then that he’d been holding back all this time. He grabbed her with a force, lifting her by her ass and pinning her up against the wall, Bellatrix moaned as his hand felt heavy on her tights and climbing up to caress her. But if his hand felt heavy and hard, it didn’t compare to the heaviness of his kisses and how he thrust his tongue down her throat. 

Merlin, it was as if something had suddenly shifted now that they were free, now that they could – and would – marry. The very ground on which they stood was shaky, but with him, she felt as if **_he was _**the ground beneath her feet. The solid base from which she’d build her life.

“We need-…” Bellatrix laughed as he kissed her again, impeding her from completing her sentence. She tried again, “We need to-…” Another kiss. Bellatrix, tilted her head so his next kiss was on her jaw, instead of her already swollen lips, she breathed heavily “We need to tell Daddy.” She finally got the words out, but to no avail, it seemed since all he did was kiss her lips again.

“Tomorrow.” He guaranteed, between heavy kisses, “We’ll tell him tomorrow.” And then, the blasted man put a little distance between them, making her sigh in protest and – unfortunately – resignation at her fate. “You can wear your ring when we tell him.” She smiled at that, she had wanted to put it on from the moment he had presented the ring to her on a little black box.

Bellatrix took a step back, willing herself not to drag him upstairs by the neck, “Alright. I need to go up, I’m already late.” She lamented the fact that at her age she still had a curfew, but just because she had to be in her bedroom it didn’t mean she couldn’t be with her… fiancé, “Unless you want-…” She gestured upstairs.

“No. We’re so close. No.” He repeated. With a heavy, “If I want to win this war, I need your father’s support.” His tone was nearly apologetic, although she was aware he was only sorry he couldn’t have her now. “We can’t risk doing anything to jeopardize his support.”

“Daddy wouldn’t-…”

“You’re your father’s favourite daughter,” He responded, dryly, well aware of what that preference had brought them, “He would blow a casket if he found you… sullied in any way.” Bellatrix glare told him exactly what she thought of his choice of words. “I-… Well, I mean-…” He stumbled through his words, only she left him like that. Impossible woman.

Blessedly, Bellatrix stopped his flailing about, “I know what you mean.” She pouted, “Fine.” With that she turned away, ready to climb up the little hidden ladder that gave way to her bedroom. Just as she was about to start her climb, he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him for one last kiss. It was a mere brushing of lips, but it still calmed her temper well enough. When he pushed her away he had a mischievous smile on his lips, as if terribly proud of himself to be able to deter her temper. She hmphed, unimpressed, and threw a half-hearted glare his way, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” He echoed and took a step back, letting her climb up the ladder.

Bellatrix spared him one last look before climbing up, and as she did so, she bit her lip, amused. She could his eyes on her. Well, on her ass to be specific, it was terribly flattering really. Once she reached her balcony she managed, after some maneuvering due to her tight skirt, to slip into solid ground. As soon as her feet were steady, she rushed to the railing just in time to see him turn to leave.

Bellatrix leaned against the railing and watched him disappear into the forest that surrounded her Manor. Only when he was out of sight did she finally turn to enter her bedroom. She pushed open the grand French doors and just as she was about to cast some light into the room a voice spoke low from the darkness, making Bellatrix jump.

“You’re late.” The words sounded slurred, barely understandable.

Despite this Bellatrix was barely to decipher just who exactly had spoken.

“Daddy!” She yelped and let out a little chuckle, “You scared me.” She breathed, “You **_do _**there are candles in the room, right? You could have lit one, for heaven’s sake.”

He gruntled and with a flick of his wrist the candles in her room came to life, casting a glow all around him. Bellatrix closed her eyes tightly willing her eyes to adjust to the light, and when she opened them again, she had to bite her tongue to not yelp in surprise. Her father looked a mess. He’d been drinking, that much was obvious but by itself not overly concerning, he had probably been celebrating with Lancaster Lestrange their new-found match. However, when Bellatrix looked at his accusing grey eyes, she knew differently. 

He seemed to have been stewing in his bad temper all night. Bellatrix tilted her head at her father, unsure as to why he was looking at her with such eyes. It scared her, how deranged he looked; his grey eyes – almost like a reflection of her own – were wide and wild, the iris barely visible under the emotional torrent that swirled all around him, his black hair was in disarray and mussed by what seemed to be his own hands, his suit was wrinkled and stained with what smelled like whiskey.

Cygnus snarled, “Lancaster saw you with your tongue shoved down some man’s throat.”

Bellatrix looked baffled at her father, “Yeah, you **_knew _**I was dating someone, Daddy.”

Cygnus spoke through gritted teeth, “Tell at least that you’re still pure, you wretched girl.” Bellatrix startled at his accusation, and Cygnus spoke through his daughter’s sputtering, “Tell me you haven’t fucked up that badly.” Bellatrix could seem to form words, her father’s implication honestly insulting to the point of speechlessness. Cygnus then rose his voice high enough to make the picture frame on Bellatrix’ desk tremble, “TELL ME YOU’RE STILL PURE!”

“I **_AM_**!” She yelled back, unaccustomed with her father’s strict tone, “Daddy, for Gods’ sake, I **_am_** still pure. It was just a kiss!” She explained, her hands animated her frustration, “And why the hell does Lancaster Lestrange even care, exactly? The contract is with Meda now.”

That seemed to set Cygnus’ temper aflame.

“You’ve fucked up for the last time!” Cygnus pointed at his daughter, furiously moving in her direction. Bellatrix, fearful of father for the first time in her life, took a step back and flinched back into the wall. “Bellatrix, this can’t happen again… No!” He roared, and the entire estate shook under its Lord’s temper, “This **_won’t _**happen again, hear me, girl?!” He approached her and trapped her against the wall, got close enough that when he snarled at her, she could feel droplets of spittle on her face, “You **_will _**not be a disappointment, my girl, oh no, no, no!” He seemed deranged, “You won’t embarrass the family any further!” He grabbed her arm tightly and dragged her even closer to him and roughly lifting her head to look her in the eyes.

Then, he suddenly stopped. He stopped as soon as he took the fear in her grey eyes – eyes so resembling his and his other daughter. Bellatrix saw, panicked, her father’s face twisted into a grimace and his grey eyes filled with unshed tears, and then Cygnus Black, tall and strong – a titan among men, really –, suddenly fell into his knees, sobbing and clutching his daughter tightly to him. He buried his head in her stomach, pain and misery irradiating off of him like a wave.

“D-Daddy!” She yelled, rendered utterly speechless at the display. Her father, however, didn’t listen so deep in misery he seemed to be. Bellatrix, worried for her mother or oh, Gods above, no, please, please, not her **_sisters_**! She tried to shake him off his hysteria, “Daddy! What’s wrong?!” She desperately tried disentangling them to no avail. She realized that she had to let him calm himself down, she aided him by carefully rubbing his back, the way he had done when one of her nightmares had plagued her mind while young.

When he seemed far more in control, and yet still clung to her, Bellatrix tried again.

“For Gods’ sake, tell me what’s wrong.” She whispered, afraid to set him off, “Is it mum?” He remained quiet and unresponsive. Her fear rose, if it wasn’t her mother…, “Narcissa?!” Bellatrix gasped through her youngest sister’s name. But when her father said nothing, she knew. She knew, even if she didn’t want to believe it, and she managed rasped out a resigned, “…Andromeda?”

That had made a rise out of him.

He stood abruptly and she let out a cry, as a result, he pushed her back roughly and as he did so, he towered over her and then spoke, vitriol in his every effect from his tone to his red-rimmed, mad grey eyes which looked to be raging like one of Zeus’ legendary thunderstorms.

“That name passes through our mouths no longer.” Bellatrix felt an icy grip to her heart. It couldn’t be. Her sister wouldn’t have. She refused to believe it. Her father’s wrath, however, told her otherwise, “From now on,” magic rose in the room as Cygnus Black – second son of the Black golden generation, Heir to Britain’s oldest Noble Family, Inheritor of titles that rightfully belonged to them for a millennium now – vowed before his ancestors in that most ancient Estate, “I only have two daughters.”

The ancient magic in that place willed it so and Bellatrix felt a stung in her eyes, knowing without needing to look that the Tapestry in their living room was missing another name that night.

Her father rose, his long robes billowing about him from both his magic and the wind coming from her open balcony. Her father made way to storm out of her room as Bellatrix stood stock-still, still processing what her sister had done. Her father didn’t need to explain, **_everyone _**knew… Her sister had run away with the Mudblood. Bellatrix swayed a little under the heaviness of the situation, the consequences hitting her like a stab wound, one by one each more painful than the last, and she collapsed shell-shocked on the white chaise long that was luckily there to catch her flailing knees.

Her father however, twisted the knife further, “Rodolphus contract now rests with you, daughter. This man you’re seeing… It’s over.” With that he turned and left her alone.

Her thoughts, as they often did, settled on Tom. A fear unlike any other gripped her heart for she knew what had to be done.

** _The next day…_ **

Bellatrix nodded at Stephan Wilkinson, the guard in the ministry’s office of Accounting and Financing, as she passed the threshold of the fireplace into hall of that part of the Ministry. Stephan knew her well by now, these past months she had come and gone often enough that he didn’t even raise his eyebrow anymore and in fact merely nodded right back at her. She walked to along the brightly lit hallway and as she found herself at the door of his office she swallowed a gulp.

She’d considered delaying it, but knew if she’d done so, she’d never be able to go through with it. Bellatrix took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing, distraught heart but to no avail, there was nothing to be done; her heart had hardened to many things but to this – to **_him _**– she knew she’d never be able to, her heart had never done her bidding when it came to him, she doubted it ever would. She knew her fate, to be perpetually in love with a man who wanted her back, but who she could never have.

Her hand gipped tightly the little black box in her hand, the ring he had given her inside, not as fancy as Rodolphus’ own that now adorned her hand, but dearer to her heart than **_any_** jewellery, mansion, or **_thing_** that Rodolphus could ever give her. The tears that sprung in her eyes were a familiar sting now, all night they fallen down her face, so much so that not even the heavy amount of makeup she was wearing could hide the swollen face and blotchy, red-rimmed eyes. Still, Bellatrix steeled her heart and knocked on the heavy brown door.

“Come in.” His voice sounded cold from the other side of the door, but that was nothing new; he was always cold as ice when at the office. With a last steadying breath she opened the door to his office, and as he looked up, his voice warmed along with his eyes. He spoke her name gleefully, as his lips twisted up to form a barely detectable smile, “Bella.”

His small smile was her undoing.

Bellatrix felt her lips twitch under unbearable misery and grey eyes cloud with unshed tears, she bent her head trying to hide it from him, but he saw it well enough and he knew her well enough. It took him seconds to approach her and even if he didn’t touch her, or didn’t comfort her, his mere presence was enough. It was always enough.

“What’s wrong?” The urgency in his tone seemed to spur something in her. She threw herself into his chest, clinging to him as her tears reached a silent, but grief-stricken, crescendo. He didn’t touch her, didn’t pull her to him and didn’t hug her like one might. He simply let her be inconsolable in her grief. When her sobs settled and his tie was well and truly soaked through with her tears, he asked her again, “Bella, what’s **_wrong_**?”

She rose her head from his chest and selfishly – greedily, angrily, **_agonisingly_** – gave him their very last kiss. Their lips touched without a plump, her misery making the kiss nothing more than a messy, uncoordinated mash of lips, teeth and tongue. His hands finally rose to touch her; more precisely to touch her shoulders and push her away, unable to withstand her wretched desolation.

She felt him withdraw and an involuntarily muffled howl escaped her raw throat; it wasn’t enough, their last kiss shouldn’t be so, so, **_so_**… There were no words left within her to express herself. He withdrew from her with a wince, he wasn’t a stupid man by any means, he knew – had felt in her kiss – their time was over.

“No.” His voice was the one spoke, sounding as icy cold as it first did when she knocked. Now, it was Bellatrix herself flinched. He spoke again, this time his voice rose with a command, “Explain.” Single words were the extent of their ability to communicate under such a gut-wrenching sate.

Bellatrix swallowed the heavy lump in her throat and spoke for the first time since the night before, her voice raw, “Andromeda.”

He straightened himself up. He didn’t need any more than that. Andromeda was gone with her Mudblood, and the consequences were all too clear. A contract was waiting to be fulfilled.

Still, he tried; he tried, one last time, “Marry me, still.” Pleading was perhaps too strong a word, but it didn’t make it any easier to refuse. His intelligent eyes were wide, almost desperate, even if the rest of his face stood stock-still.

“I can’t.” She was steadfast and it broke her to be so, but there was no other choice. Not for her. Her family and its honour would always come first. She had made a pledge to bind herself to Rodolphus and she’d do so, no matter how agonizing it would be. And Tom? Tom simply stood there, his face harder than she’d ever seen it and she forced herself to repeat the words that shattered her soul, “I can’t marry you.” A flinch made itself known in his otherwise stoic face and, oh, he was Tom no longer, not to her anyway, and Bellatrix felt a stab in her heart. He was simply the Dark Lord now. Bellatrix swallowed the tears in her throat and then in the spur of a moment born out of utter desperate misery, knelt, deferent before him, “But I will fight for you, my Lord.” 

After a heavy sigh, his hand settled on black hair, petting her head a detached sort of way, it would be in a way, the only sliver of the burning, whirlwind romance that had claimed their souls.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, I am in a MOOD these days. Again, this was supposed to be a funny little romp where Cygnus discovered Tom/Bellatrix but it ended up taking me here… How fun. (Please kill me)
> 
> Also please tell me, does this still count as Bellamort? I think the plot ran away from me.


End file.
